


The bloody ritual

by Valba



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot Twists, and other things that I won't mention here not to spoil anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valba/pseuds/Valba
Summary: You and Dean hunt together, best friends with Cas. The three of you are trying to win the war against Raphael and sort out your feelings. If I tell you more I'll spoil something, so yeah basically just read it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first fic. And also I'm not a native speaker.  
> (This is to lower your expectations)  
> There's no Sam in the story but there's a lot of graphic sex scences (according to my plan, anyway) and other good stuff.  
> Gonna add more chapters soon.

You and Dean met Castiel just about two years ago. You both considered him your best friend, although perhaps Cass grew slightly fonder of you over time. You couldn't help but notice the way he stares at you sometimes as if he's dazzled and confused, and at the same time is trying to see through you. At the moments like that, you always wondered if angels were able to read minds, and you did your best trying not to think of anything you didn't want him to know. Sure, you could have just asked him that outright, but you were too afraid that the second this question comes out of your mouth, something awkward would totally pop into your head.

"Not for nothing, Y/N, but the last person who looked at me like that I got laid," Dean whispered in your ear, tapped you on the shoulder and, having come out of Castiel's field of vision on his way back to the door, winked at you.

After his words, you felt really uncomfortable under Cass's bewildered stare still fixed at you. You looked down at the floor and lowered your head nervously. _So, Dean noticed, too?_ Getting lost in your thoughts, you flinched as Dean shut the door to Bobby's panic room behind him.

"Is everything alright?" Cass asked giving you a concerned look.

"Yeah, um, nevermind, I get a bit shaky after a sleepless night," you murmured trying to concentrate your thoughts on the case you and Dean were working on.

You always felt that Cass couldn't be the same friend to you as Dean had been. You and Dean were more like sister and brother, and you'd never thought about him in the ways you sometimes thought about Castiel. Like, for example, at that particular moment when you couldn't stop thinking about the actual meaning of his gaze. _What if he wasn't an angel? What if we weren't in the apocalypse? Can angels even feel... things? Are they even allowed to have s —_

"Shit!" you blurted out under your breath.

 _How 'bout you put yourself together now, huh?_ You thought to yourself, as you remembered about the celestial being in the room. _Possible mind reader right here, girl. Now, the case... Wouldn't he say something if he did hear me thinking, though?_

"Hey, Dean," you heard Bobby's voice upstairs. "You've seen Y/N? Gotta ask her somethin'."

"Yeah, she's in the panic room, warding the place from angels and having intense eye sex with Cass. Might take a while, maybe I could help?"

You flinched again at his words, glanced at Cass with confusion and saw him rolling his eyes as he sighed.

"I guess we're almost done here. I can feel the warding weakens me. I should probably go," he declared gruffly and put his spray paint on the table.

"Sure. I have only a couple of sigils left. You better go, I'll finish yours," you uttered quietly, still embarrassed.

"I'll see you upstairs, Y/N," he took a little pause as he reached the door, still hadn't dared to look at you after Dean's words. "But first, Bobby and I have to talk."

His deep, husky voice made you take a moment to gather your thoughts.

"About what?"

Instead of answering the question, Cass sighed again, gave you a quick glance and walked out the door, leaving you in perplexity and alone with your sigils.

* * *

Still confused about Cass being all weird today, you walked out of the room when you heard indistinct muttering coming from the library. "Well, that's unusual," you pointed out, stopping on the halfway up the stairs. After a few minutes of unsuccessful attempts to make out a single word coming from up there, you were now angry at the men, who apparently were hiding something from you. Quitely but full of determination you sneaked your way through the hall and gripped the frame of the door to the library.

To your surprise, you saw Cass and Bobby both looking worried and confused, discussing something in almost a whisper. Judging by the lack of Dean's jacket in its usual place, he was gone. Neither of the present men still hadn't noticed you yet as they were leaning over the table with their eyes fixed on some old manuscript you didn't recall seeing before.

"Am I interrupting something?"

You were taken aback by the stare Bobby gave in response. It wasn't an apologetic startled look of a man who's been just caught in the act of some weird conspiracy as you must've expected. It was a look bleeding with pity and compassion, followed by a deep, long sigh.

"No, we're finished," Cass replied almost immediately still looking down at the mysterious manuscript. "We were expecting you, actually," a long pause followed. "We have to talk," with these words Castiel gave you the same look you felt so uncomfortable under just a few minutes ago.

"Well?" you clucked impatiently. "And where's Dean, by the way?"

"I sent him for a beer," Bobby answered with the same look on his face.

"I thought we had a six pack in the fr --"

"Y/N, this is serious," even in such a tense moment your name pronounced by Cass sent shivers down your spine, just like it always did.

"Something happened?"

"Nothing yet," Bobby sighed. "Cass, you tell her what you just told me, would ya? Don't wanna, uh, confuse you with my presence, Y/N," Bobby looked to the floor. "And just so you know, kid, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, no matter how important they say it is."

You had only heard this fatherly concern in Bobby's voice once when it was literally the end of the world so now you were seriously freaking out.

"What are you talking about?!" you inquired impatiently.

Bobby and Cass looked at each other and nodded.

"I'll tell you everything," said the angel and went up to you. "But not here."

With this being said Castiel touched your forehead. A moment later you were standing somewhere far far away from Bobby's house. You were at your old apartment in (*your country/state). You hadn't been there since the day you met Dean, but you recognized the place immediately despite the darkness and a thick layer of dust on practically everything.

"What the hell, Cass?" you shuddered "If you're about to tell me something you've just told Bobby why taking me here?"

"Because you would have felt insecure having him or Dean around for what I am to tell you. At least, that's what Bobby said... or what he meant, anyway. "

"What?!" you squeaked after a little pause. "Whatever, just tell me already."

"Okay, so... There's this weapon of heaven, very powerful one," Castiel sighed and sat on the couch. "For now it is our only chance to defeat Raphael."

"Sounds great," you concluded. "So do you have it?"

"No, but I know its location and how to get it."

"...and?" you asked. "Do I have to drag every word out of you?" you were now shaking.

"A few things must be done," Cass replied reluctantly. "Some are easy, some - not so much, but doable. But above all that - a certain ritual must be performed. And this part must be done by a human who will then acquire the power over the weapon... And it can only be a female person."

He sighed and looked up at you. You were genuinely relieved - nothing bad had happened yet.

"Well, you know me, I'm game," you smirked. "So what, I'll have the power over this thing; hence I'll have to take down Raphael myself? Is that what this conspiracy is about?"

"No," Castiel answered calmly and stood up. "It can be transmitted. I'll handle Raphael... If, of course, you agree to perform the ritual.

Now fear hit you like a wave. If Cass doubted that you would agree on it, this ritual must have been a nasty piece of work, you thought to yourself. What did you have to sacrifice?

Cass noticed this question and the expression of panic on your face, so he went up to you and slowly stretched out his hand to put it on your shoulder.

"The ritual requires the act of coitus."

You raised your eyebrows and took a couple of seconds to realize what just happened.

"What?! Are you joking?" you chuckled. "Man, I thought I'll have to die or, I don't know, kill a puppy," you continued laughing. "So, you and Bobby really thought you'd traumatize me with that? Oh, God, I haven't had a single hook up since the last time I vacuumed this place. Thanks for the church-positive excuse you got me!"

Castiel wasn't laughing.

"That's not all," he paused, watching the smile coming off of your face. "It has to be a man you know. Your closest man," he finished calmingly.

Now you understood everything. And you knew exactly what Cass was going to say next.

"Y/N... It has to be Dean."

You gasped. There was no way you'd refuse to be of help at practically your only shot to beat Raphael, you wouldn't let yourself. Now, as you were looking at Cass, your knees weakening, you thought of how caring your angel was. How gently he tried to break the news for you - he even got Bobby assisted him in accomplishing his mission. You had a lump in your throat just thinking of what he was asking you to do, but at the same time his ocean blue eyes were the only thing in the world giving you comfort right now.

You took a pause. A long one.

"What does Dean say?" you gulped.

"I haven't told him. In case you'd refuse. I know how ethically wrong this must feel, and I'm sorry for asking you that. You should know that you can always refuse. We can find another way."

You inhaled, touched by that courtesy and ready to burst out crying.

"Only Bobby knows. But I can take this memory from him if you want me to."

At these words, you sobbed and fell into Castiel's arms. After a minute he suddenly broke the embrace and gripped your shoulders.

"You know, Y/N, it's fine," he panted. Something you had never heard from him was in his voice.

"We'll find another way. Now, just forget about it. I can arrange that, actually..."  
He was about to put his palm on your forehead when you gripped his arm.

"Stop!" you urged. "Look, that's the last thing in the world I want to do. Dean is like a brother to me. But if there's no other choice..."

Having said this, you paused. A new idea suddenly struck you, and you stared at Castiel pensively.

"Y/N?" he gave you a confused look.

"I just thought of something. Promise you won't freak out."

"Sure..." to your surprise, Cass sighed in relief.

"Well, I just thought if I have to, you know... "coitus" - whatever - my closest man... Why can't that be someone else? I don't only have Dean..."

You mustered up all your courage and uttered:

_"I also have you, Castiel."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so this is where the fun begins...

Cass ran his fingers through his hair, giving you a calm little smile.

"I knew you were going to say that."

"Can you read my mind?" you suddenly asked.

"What? No. At least, not like that, you would have noticed if I did that. Bobby told me you'd make this choice. Although, I am surprised you consider me one of your closest men..."

"Of course you are," you interrupted him.

"Yet, I know it's a lot to ask. So if you realize you can't do that and the idea of performing the ritual with me in Dean's stead is still not comforting enough..."

"Wait, so you're okay with that?"

You were genuinely surprised. You expected Cass to tilt his head to the side in confusion and tell you that he, as an angel, couldn't debase himself like that.

"I am. Are you?"

You nodded.  
You tried to hide how relieved you were.  
How, in fact, _enthusiastic_ you felt.

"Thank you, Y/N," Cass sighed, his eyes were crinkled in a kind smile.

* * *

A few days had passed, Castiel was away the whole time looking for some stuff he had to collect before the ritual. The more you thought about what was about to happen the more confused you felt. You admitted to yourself that under any other circumstances you would've been thrilled to have sex with your angel. But this... this just didn't feel right.

You decided to stay in (*your country/state) for some time. Officially, because you wanted to catch up with your old friends and family. Actually, because you didn't want to see that look on Bobby's face or have some awkward conversation with Dean. And he must have known everything by now.

One night you were coming back from your friend's house when you suddenly felt someone grabbing you by your shoulder. You flinched, but then looked at the intruder and smiled.

"Hey, Cass."

You were going to say something else when he dragged you away from the crowded street and placed his palm on your forehead.

"It's quieter here," Cass said as you found yourself standing in the middle of the kitchen of your old apartment.

A tiny bit of the streetlight permeated the room through the closed curtains, and you were only able to see the outline of the man standing in front of you. Even so, your heart dropped.

"Well, I guess today is the day, isn't it?" you asked, feeling heat waving your cheeks.

"It is," he answered softly.

You were adjusting to the darkness and could now see his face. All your uncertainties and fear were dispelling.

"Okaay," you tried to sound confident. "How about you zap me somewhere with the water bills paid first?"

"No need," having said this Cass snapped his fingers, and the light in the room turned on, and you heard water flowing through the pipes. All the dust suddenly disappeared. "We have a few hours," you noticed the paper bag he was carrying. "I brought us some wine."

* * *

You came out of the bathroom after making some quick preparations. It wasn't happening the way you had planned it. You thought Cass would have warned you at least the day before so that you could get ready in every sense of the word. Instead, you were wearing some simple white tank top and grey jeans and had no makeup on.

You walked into the kitchen where Castiel was standing at the bar counter and pouring wine for you. It was only, like, the second or third time you'd ever seen him without his trench coat and the suit jacket, so you took a moment to admire this picture.

"It's nice you brought that," you said just to fill the silence.

Cass smiled as he noticed you.

"Yes, Dean said it would be a good idea," he replied. "And I assumed he's a reliable source for that matter."

The thought of Dean knowing what was about to happen right now made your breath hitch.

"So, Dean knows?" you asked as you sat on the bar stool.

"Um, yes..." Cass muttered a bit surprised by the question. "I'm sorry if I shouldn't have told him, I just - -"

"It's fine, Cass," you cut in. "How else would we explain the weapon, right?"  
You took a gulp of wine and quickly wiped your mouth with the back of your hand trying to hide your trembling lips. Castiel sat on the stool behind you.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he started looking at you with his puppet eyes. "But I'm sensing nervousness coming from you. Are you still certain you want to do that?"

"Yes. Sure. And I get that Bobby and Dean needed to know, I do," you took another gulp. "Just wish they didn't, that's all."

"Y/N, if you think they would judge you for that, you're wrong," Cass put his hand on your lap.

You looked up and smiled at him. Bobby and Dean were forgotten. Now you couldn't think of anything other than the hand on your lap and the navy blue eyes staring at you. _Probably without this ritual we'd never get a chance to - -_

"They understand everything," Cass continued, knocking you out of your musings.

You nodded thankfully catching yourself on the thought that your worries and doubts didn't matter all that much anymore. Crossing your legs, you quickly changed the subject so that Castiel wouldn't have noticed the arousal, now, as you had drunk more wine, radiating from you.

You asked him a bunch of questions about the other items he had collected, about the weapon and other relevant stuff. You drank a couple more glasses and felt pretty smashed already, while Cass seemed just as usual.

The conversation went on and on and became harder for you to maintain. Watching Cass making any little move, bringing the glass to his mouth, hearing every sip of wine running down his throat, every soft chuckle he made... All that seemed so mesmerizingly beautiful to you now that you had completely lost track of the conversation.

You leaned forward, reducing the distance between you two. Cass stopped talking in a slight confusion just for a second, then, probably having assumed that you couldn't sit up straight because of the alcohol, continued.

You put your hand on his lap, wondering if he would've decided to ignore that little gesture just as well. He paused again, you nodded and raised your eyebrows, encouraging him to keep talking. And so he did, only now looking anywhere but at you.

These few days you spent in anticipation after Cass had told you about his plan, you used to wonder how you should behave when the moment comes. You had decided for yourself not to show your actual excitement and act like you don't want this - you didn't want to scare off your angelic friend. But now your insecurities were long forgotten.

Watching Cass trying to avoid eye contact with you for the first time ever, you smirked. Thick, soft sound of his voice filled you with a desire that strong, you had no idea how he, as an angel, couldn't sense it.

Or couldn't he?

You slid your hand upward, running your fingers through the fabric of his slacks, squeezing his inner thigh. He was just watching your hand, his head raised and his lips parted.

"What are you doing?" his voice had dropped a few octaves.

"Nothing," you smiled. "Keep talking."

Castiel took a swig from his glass and looked at you. Something new was in his gaze.

"Actually, I've just finished," you expected him to mutter something in response, shy away, flinch as your fingers travelled even further up his thigh. But he didn't. His voice was calm and low, and you quailed under his stare. "Do you have any other questions?"

Having said this, he leaned forward, gliding his fingertips up the arm that was clenching his thigh so tightly only a few seconds ago. This same arm that was now shivering under his touch.

"I have something else on my mind, Cass," you whispered, your skin crawling as he extended the stretch of his fingers on your shoulder, caressing your collarbone with his thumb.

He stood up, cupping your face in his hands and leaned down to you.

"And what's that?" Castiel asked calmly, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

" _You..._ " you gasped in his ear, putting your arm around his waist.

Tips of his fingers holding your chin, inches between your lips, he looked you in the eyes. "Sure you're ready?"

Instead of answering, you pressed your lips against his. Softly touching your hair, he responded with a long, slow kiss.

You uncrossed your legs, pulling Cass closer, your fingers clawing his shirt. The kiss got more intense.

You couldn't believe it was happening this way. The ritual was a compulsory measure, something you two were forced to do. Something that felt ethically wrong yet was secretly desired by you. But him? You'd expected some awkward, locked out of passion missionary action under a blanket. But here you were: his swollen lips travelling down your neck, his hands grabbing your sides so tight it left marks.

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you started unbuttoning his shirt. Your hands were shaking. Cass interrupted you halfway, pulling off your tank top and throwing it away vigorously.

You were about to get off the stool when he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head down to expose his neck. He let out a soft moan against your ear when your lips reached a throb of his pulse beneath the skin of his throat.

He carried you straight into your old room. When he opened the door, easily holding you just with one arm, you suddenly realized that you were about to have sex with a celestial being of unimaginable power. An ancient creature that can snap you in two just with his mind. The mere thought of that _an angel_ was about to fuck you was almost enough for you to come right there.

He sat on the bed, settling you on his lap. You came back to unbuttoning his shirt as he unhooked your bra. Seeking any friction, you moved your hips up his thigh. As he noticed it, he pulled you on the bed, stood up and threw away his shirt. For a second he just stared at you, eyes swirling with lust. Then you both realized you were no longer in need for the rest of the clothes and stripped naked quickly.

You gasped when you saw his body. All of him was so heavenly perfect.

"I can misjudge my strength," Cass breathed against your hair as he hovered on top of you. "Tell me if something goes wrong," he guided your head to the bed. "Don't want to hurt you, Y/N."

His fingers travelled down your body, sending shivers all over your skin. He watched your eyes shutting close in anticipation. You moaned when his hand reached your clit and felt electrocuted as he started rubbing circles around it. Cass breathed heavily watching your body bending toward his hand.

You wanted to ask him for more but were only able to mouth his name, nearly choking on your own breath. He saw it and, without hesitation, slid his middle finger inside you. Cass was moving his finger slowly up until the point when you practically screamed his name. He added another finger and quickened his pace.

His long and nimble fingers were hitting you in all the right places. You didn't notice that you arched your back and dug your fingernails into the mattress. Almost frantic for him to go deeper, move faster, you pushed him off of you, climbing on top.

"Sure you're ready?" Cass sounded a bit confused.

"Oh, for god sake, stop asking this stupid question already..." hadn't finished the sentence, you pressed your lips against his. "It's not stupid, of course," you said in between kisses. "Thanks for asking," you settled yourself on top of him, goosebumps covering all your body as you felt his cock on your clit. "Now, can you forget about your angelic tenderness and fuck _the hell_ out of me?"

Cass smirked under your lips, positioning you on his cock. He was long and thick; first, you were only able to take in his head, then you slowed down, faintly moving your hips and adjusting to his size. Obviously incapable of repressing his desire any longer, Cass placed his hands on your waist, first gently guiding you up and down, then moving inside of you. With you bouncing to the beat, he set a leisurely pace, waiting for you to adjust completely. Once it was accomplished, he slowed down to get his full length into you.

"Oh my fucking god! Jesus, Cass!" you exclaimed in delight.

"Probably don't blaspheme right now, Y/N," he groaned hungrily into your mouth, filling you up once again and clearly enjoying what you'd just said.

"Sure," you gasped as he pushed his full length inside you one more time. "Forgive me my sins, father." _I am so going to hell. Again._

He pushed you back from him carefully, you giggling mischievously at your own joke.

"Get on your knees, you lost sheep," he smiled.

You obeyed unhesitatingly. Cass crawled to you from behind, spooning you, scattering kisses over your neck and shoulders. One hand caressing your breast, the other rubbing your clit, he bite your earlobe. Shortly after you gripped his dick and started jerking him off, Cass pushed on your back, making you lean on your elbows.

Cass started with rubbing the head of his dick against your folds slowly. Then, unable to stand his own tease any longer, he entered you with one forceful thrust.

"Oh, fuck! Cass..." you panted.

"Yes, about that..." with this being said he thrust again, and again. You started moaning loudly. He set a desperate pace, probably making the walls and all the furniture shake in his rhythm.

Castiel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head toward him, placing his other hand between your neck and chin, fingers clawing your jaw. For not to suffocate, you had to put your hands on the headboard, which was hard to reach as the man behind you kept fucking you with inhuman force.

"Are you hurt?" Castiel loosened his grip and stopped his thrusts as he heard you making a choking noise.

 _"I am blessed,_ " you coughed, grinning widely. "Please, keep going."

You realized you were going to feel sore and exhausted afterward, but it was totally worth it. This really was almost too much. This was right on that subtle border between _too much_ and _fucking  perfect_.

Cass got back to thrusting in you, now even harder, as impossible as it must've seemed to you. One hand still holding you by the throat and clenching your jaw, he let go of your hair and cupped your breast. A deep moan came out of your closed shut mouth as he squeezed your nipple.

"So beautiful..." Cass whispered so softly as if his insanely hard thrusts didn't have any effect over his breath. After he was done with your nipples, he moved his hand to your center. As he pressed two fingers down your clit, you realized you were close.

"Cass," you gasped, putting your hand over the arm strangling you.

"Oh, Y/N, are you alright?" he asked hastily, cutting off all that he was doing to you and letting go of your neck.

"I'm amazing," you answered, turned around on your knees and put your hands around his shoulders. "And also very close, but I wanted to switch the position and..." you bite your lip, uncertain of how to express your wish.

"What is it?" Cass said, his fingers flew to tangle in your hair. "Y/N, you can tell me everything."

"I wanted you to do something for me," you uttered, still breathing heavily.

Castiel chuckled softly and pulled you in for a small kiss.

"I think I might know what it is."

Before you could express your surprise, Cass put you on your back and opened your thighs. He hovered on top of you, settling in a comfortable position. He entered you with a deep, quick thrust and you both closed your eyes for a few seconds at the feeling of each other. Shortly he came back to his old pace, his thumb pressed on your clit, other hand squeezing your nipples one after another.

You started shaking, Cass sensed your walls wrapping around his cock. This was when he started fucking you into the bed even faster, making you scream his name at the top of your lungs. Seconds before your release, he made your wild dream come true. His eyes flashed blue, light in the room started flickering, and you saw the shadow of his huge wings. One last deep thrust and you came. Came all over the angel, who was still thrusting in you, gradually slowing down his pace. A moment later he came too, filling you up with his seed.

You couldn't move any part of your body; he lay down next to you. Brushing your hair from your face, he smiled as you looked at him.

"Was I... Good?" he asked.

Still steadying your breath, you smiled back.

_"You were heaven sent."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if you notice any mistakes or stupidly written phrases (who am I kidding, of course you will) feel free to shame me in the comments so that I won't make these mistakes in the upcoming chapters and my future life!


	3. Chapter 3

You hadn't seen Castiel since he brought you back to Bobby's house where the two men were waiting for you. For a few days you three stayed at home, waiting for a new case to come up, reading books from Bobby's library, rarely talking and avoiding any mentioning of the ritual in your conversations.

No news from Cass, not even a single call regarding the weapon, let alone something more... _personal?_ And you were certain there was something to talk about. Like, for example, what did it all mean for you two? There was no way it meant nothing, you thought. Before the ritual you'd thought you would've been withholding pleasure from yourselves, trying not to make it any more awkward than it had already been and by doing that making things even worse. That's exactly how you'd thought it would go. You and Cass had been supposed to "perform an act of coitus," but it's not exactly the term you would use to describe what had actually happened.

Would _fuck you senseless_ be more accurate?

Truth is, you liked it. A lot. And thinking about it, especially all the touchy stuff that he did - asking if you were okay, kissing you and telling that you're beautiful, looking you right in the eyes - made you feel like you had wings on your back. After a couple of days of nada, you started wondering if you made it all up or, at least, embellished it in your imagination.

And the only person in the world you could talk about it before going way too soft was acting really strange around you.

"Dean..." you let out a sigh after Bobby left the library. "Would you please tell me what the fuck is going on?" You glanced at him, unable to mask your annoyance.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Dean looked back at you, jolted from his newspaper.

"Ugh..." you rolled your eyes. "Like you don't know what I'm talking about. Right."

You paused for a moment waiting for his response. But he was just looking at you silently, no expression on his face.

"The way you've been acting, Dean, ever since I got back! That all-consuming awkwardness in the air every time I enter the room..."

You couldn't believe he was just staring at you, saying nothing.

"I mean, Bobby's, too, acting strangely. These pitiful looks he gives me when he thinks I can't see him... Jesus, I'm so done with this shit," heat flared your cheeks as you watched Dean's face still expressing nothing. "But at least it's getting better with each day. At least he fucking talks to me!"

Dean lowered his eyes, stared at the floor for a couple of seconds, then got back to his newspaper.

"You swear a lot, you know that?" he chuckled. You couldn't believe he'd just _chuckled_. "That's probably my influence, though," he said, turning the page. "Sorry."

Before you could comprehend his words and come up with an answer, Bobby entered the room.

"Found you guys a case," he said, watching you still staring at Dean with both rage and confusion.

"Maybe just some old drunk claiming he saw his wife's eyes "flashing black right before she snapped her own neck," but it's just a few miles away, so --"

"Worth checking out," Dean cut in, throwing his newspaper at the table and standing up. "Y/N, you coming?"

You startled. That was the most stupid question he could ask, you thought. All these years of hunting and saving the world together, fighting side by side, he'd never had to ask this. The answer was too obvious.

From a look on his face you could swear if you'd say 'no' right now, he would simply shrug his shoulders and go alone, no questions asked. It even seemed like he was hoping for that exact reaction.

"Sure," you said, sinking your fingernails into your palms and looking away from both men.

* * *

You spent the entire drive in your laptop, searching through the police records, learning more about the case. Several times you found yourself reading the end of a paragraph and having no idea what the rest of it was about.

Dean was mostly silent, humming along to Led Zeppelin songs from time to time. Every once in a while he would throw up a question about what'd you found out, smiling as you gave him a one-word response through your gritted teeth.

Once you'd learned everything you could, you kept staring in the laptop, senselessly clicking and scrolling, pretending to be reading. After a few minutes of this performance, you finally slammed the lid down.

"Anything new?" Dean asked.

"Well," you started with a sigh. "Looks like this guy might actually be just an old drunk," you said quietly, looking out the window. "He's been busted before, a couple of times for assault, multiple times for drunk and disorderly."

"So what, you've just found this out? We've been on the road for, like, an hour," Dean chuckled. "Did you forget to simply google the names first and just hacked into every federal database instead or something?"

He laughed as you gave him a quick contemptuous look.

"Oh, I see," he nodded. "That probably was the first thing you've learned, you were just mentally preparing yourself to say so many words to me," Dean said mockingly. "Well, is there anything else?" he asked. "Cause we're almost there. C'mon, just let it out. You can pretend I'm _Cass_ if that would make it any easier."

You nearly flinched at his words. This was the first time Dean mentioned Cass after you got back from (*your country/state). The way he emphasized his name as if struggling to pronounce it out loud, finally made it clear to you it wasn't compassion or pity he felt towards you. Typically you wouldn't have any trouble asking him what the hell his problem was, but now... Now you just didn't want to hear more sassiness. Or, more importantly, the truth.

"Nothing, --"

"Super," Dean cut in.

_Is he really fucking jealous?_

"-- you stupid son of a bitch."

* * *

"So what, we're just gonna come back to Bobby's?" you asked Dean as you two were leaving the last house in the neighborhood, late in the evening.

"Well, yeah," he answered. "We've got nothing even remotely demon-y, no one knows or saw anything..."

After these hours of doing your usual work for the first time in a while, you two completely forgot about what had happened earlier, so you were somewhat disappointed there was no case. It meant you would have to come back to all that awkwardness you had no idea how to deal with.

"Anyhow, if something else happens, they got our numbers," you realized you hadn't been listening to a word he'd been saying. "But, you know, sometimes people just kill other people," Dean shrugged and opened the door of the Impala. "Now let's go back and find ourselves a real case," he suggested and sat in the car.

You opened the door reluctantly, almost sure that the moment you put your leg in the car all that passive aggression would come crashing down on you again.

Slowly closing the door behind you, you sat in the car. You were hoping you could have a calm, silent ride. That depended on Dean, of course, because you weren't going to talk. You were going to sit and wonder how the hell had you missed that moment when Dean had developed some stupid feelings for you and how the hell were you supposed to treat him like a brother after that.

But suddenly your plan was ruined by a familiar gravely deep voice from a man suddenly appeared in the backseat.

_"Hello, Y/N."_

_Pause._

_"Dean."_


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, hiya, Cass!" Dean said with a mocking excitement after you two stared at each other for a few seconds. "How's it hanging?"

"I think what Dean meant to say," you started in a suddenly high-pitched voice. "Where the hell were you?"

Cass swallowed thickly as you looked at him.

"Well, um..." he lowered his eyes. "I was helping you with the demons in this town, actually."

You and Dean looked at each other, confused.

"So there was a demon here?" you asked, suddenly indifferent to the case and hoping to change the subject as soon as possible.

"More than one," Cass replied in an unusual for him soft voice. "Although, one of them got away --"

"Look, that's just great, man, thanks for helping out," Dean cut him off. "But don't you have other things to do?" he asked, irritated by the fact Cass was still staring at you. "Like with this weapon you fucked my sister for?"

Cass sighed, looking apologetically at Dean. You flinched, unsure of what you just heard. You found yourself not listening to Cass's response as you were trying to figure out if that "sister" title brushes aside Dean's presumable jealousy.

"Believe me, Dean, I would have given _anything_ not to have to do this."

At these words, you instantly got your concentration back. And you wished you'd never heard them.

"Especially now that I've failed."

You and Dean gaped at him, unsure of what to say.

"How?" you panted. "Can you fix it?"

"No," he sighed. "The weapon is destroyed."

The three of you silenced for a moment.

"So all of it - all that - was for nothing," Dean concluded with a smirk on his face. "Great!" he exclaimed. "Hope you guys had a good time together, at least."

Dean's comments on top of the news from Cass made your cheeks burn.

"Oh, fuck you, Dean!" you cried out, barely letting him finish the sentence. "I have no idea what your goddamn problem is, and I don't even want to know."

Having said this, you opened the door and got out of the Impala. You felt your eyes watering and rushed away from the car.

"Hey!" Dean leaned out of the car window. "Come on, Y/N, wait!" By the time Dean had open his door, Cass was already two steps behind you. "Y/N, I'm sorry, alright?" Dean shouted.

Cass put his hand on your shoulder, and you both kept walking.

"Where do you want to go?" he whispered in your ear, his hand brushed against your back.

_"Away."_

* * *

You found yourself standing on a silent street, Cass’s fingers on your forehead, another hand around your waist. You didn’t recognize the place, but you knew it was the same town.

“I’m sorry for what Dean said,” Cass broke the silence.

He realized he was holding your waist for an unnecessarily long time and moved his arm with intent to let go of it, but instead, to his own surprise, only pulled you closer.

“Ignore him,” he continued.

The hand on your forehead travelled upwards to brush a strand of hair from your face and tuck it behind your ear. Cass looked uncertain of what he was doing, watching his own fingers curling around your hair. His words and movements seemed surprisingly confident in contrast with the expression on his face.

No matter how mad you'd been all these days at Cass practically ditching you, you couldn't help being _so damn glad_ to see him again. You pulled back slightly. Cass shook his head and took his hand off your waist, lowering his eyes. You both stood in silence for a couple of moments, unsure of what to say.

"Yeah..." you started. "I was actually gonna say the same thing to you," you took a deep breath, your eyes meeting with his. "So, um, tell me what happened?"

Before Cass could answer a passer-by suddenly bumped into you making you both realize you were standing in the middle of a street. As you two stepped aside, you proposed to find someplace silent. Both of you knew perfectly well that by ‘a place’ you meant ‘a bar’. Having the forthcoming conversation in the nearest diner or, in fact, any other place imaginable seemed just wrong.

You walked down the street trying to find something appropriate, not saying anything and not looking at each other. You entered the first door with a neon bar sign on it. From the very first sight (and the smell) it seemed like a place you definitely wouldn’t ever walk into, especially alone. But right now, as long as it served vodka and you had the angel by your side, you couldn’t care less.

In this anthill full of various noises and sudden shouts you finally managed to find some kind of a quiet and isolated nook. As you took your corner seat, Cass hesitated for a moment, as if trying to decide whether he should sit across from you or next to you. A quick smile played at the corners of your mouth as you watched him. The smile you'd never - not even now - been able to hide when you saw him being so clumsy and adorable. In the most casual manner, you threw your fake FBI coat to the seat across from you, leaving Cass with no choice.

Knowing that Cass is almost invulnerable to alcohol, you ordered the biggest bottle of vodka, one shot and one highball glass for your cavalier, which, apparently, really confused the waiter. As you were finally left alone, you started asking questions about the weapon and what had gone wrong. Cass's answers were reluctant, his eyes barely meeting yours as he spoke. Turned out, he trusted a wrong angel, and that nearly got him killed. The weapon was destroyed, and he had no idea what he must do now.

You had a few shots, cringing with each sip at the awfulness of the hooch. Cass drank the rest of the bottle. It even had some kind of an effect over him, but neither of you didn't seem to notice it, engulfed in bothersome thoughts of another possible apocalypse to come.

As Cass finished his narrative, the waiter came up to set a bowl of peanuts and open another bottle at your table. Both of you watched him absent-mindedly.

"Well," you sighed once the waiter had finally left. "You said it yourself," you hesitated for a moment, realizing that you didn't actually believe in what you were about to say. "We can find another way." The last sentence came out more like a question.

Castiel chuckled, raised the glass to his lips and lightly bite on its rim. You actually felt stupid for noticing these little details. The world was coming to an end and you just sat there, shivering when he called you by your name, hiding your smile at each head tilt he did and blushing every time your eyes met. _So damn stupid._

"Another way..." he uttered pensively. "If only I knew where to look."

That's when you realized how drunk both of you were. And how the fact that you two were now sitting in a bar instead of even trying to dig something up was just the tip of the iceberg of utter hopelessness.

"Did you mean what you said, Cass?" you questioned, changing the subject - naturally, there wasn't much you could add. "Back in the car," you explained as Cass tilted his head. "About how you would have given _anything_ not to have sex with me?"

For some reason, you chuckled. Vodka must have really boosted your courage. That was the first time you had ever used the word 'sex' referring to the ritual. Suddenly you were flooded with memories from that night.

"I mean," you chuckled again, watching Cass's eyes widening in almost a shock. "I kinda thought we both enjoyed it."

 _Fuck that was brave,_ you thought to yourself, part of you regretting these last few shots you'd had.

"Well, um," Cass began after a pause. "That was quite pleasurable, I guess."

"You guess?" you laughed, now succumbed completely to whatever intent you were driven by.

"What I meant was..." Cass coughed. You grinned at how easy it was to make him uncomfortable in such a human manner. "I am sorry you were forced to do that. Especially since it was to no avail."

"So, basically, you're saying that you wish we did it under different circumstances," you concluded and gulped down another shot just to hide your grin.

"I didn't say _this_."

It was then when you felt this extreme urge to get out of the bar and grab Cass someplace private. You emptied two shots in a row just to get rid of what was left. When you stood up to reach your coat and take some cash from the wallet, you felt like the Earth shook under your feet and something heavy weighed down your head. That's when you realized how much you didn't want to be drunk. Not right now.

You tried to brush this feeling off. For some reason, you were certain that if you would just ignore it, it would have faded away. Your head ached like hell, but you didn't let it on.

"Let's get out of here," you proposed, taking cash from the wallet and pretending to be sober. "I'm sick of this goddamn music."

* * *

You checked in a motel nearby, keeping in mind that you still had to deal with a demon in this town. At some point in time, you had forgotten about your intent to act sober. As for Castiel, soon after living the bar you discovered, much to your surprise, that he was pretty hammered too.

Most of the way to the motel was a blur. It seemed like both of you had forgotten about Raphael for these few minutes and just were having a good time together. Probably you also had forgotten about Castiel's celestial origin, so when it came to booking a room, you asked for two beds without thinking twice.

When Cass closed the door to the room behind him, you felt even more out of it. Except now you weren't thinking about your headache or how wished you wouldn't have been so damn drunk in a moment like this. Now the only thing you could think about was Castiel's lips on yours. Or something else of that nature.

You stood in silence for a couple of moments, which seemed more like an eternity to you, looking pensively at each other, what would have seemed more like checking each other out for anyone else had they seen you two.

"I think you enjoyed it more than you let yourself believe," you returned to the previous topic, now coming closer to Cass.

God, you wished he would have made the next move. After all this drunken flirt without any reciprocation whatsoever from his side, you were starting to feel stupid. Cass made a step toward you, now inches from you, he gave you a half smile.

_"I believe I know exactly how much I enjoyed it."_

* * *

It was hard to tell who kissed who. Who was more persistent. Who pushed who onto the bed and hovered on top. Hell, it was like you were one now. Like there wasn't any world outside this room, outside this bed, outside the two of you coalesced into a kiss.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," you breathed suddenly.

Castiel got off of you rapidly, helped you up and escorted you to the bathroom. At this moment, it felt like the biggest shame you had ever encountered in your life. All you wanted to do was to curl up and disappear.

Cass holding your hair back while you were throwing up was no help. You wished he weren't there to see this. You tried to ask him to get out but were only able to mumble timid "sorry"s practically every five seconds.

"I am so, so sorry, Cass," you said again after the deed was done and the two of you were sitting on the bathroom floor.

"It's okay," Cass repeated in the thousandth time. "It's a part of human experience."

He smiled at you kindly. This smile and getting rid of some of the booze intoxicating you from the inside made you feel a little less awful.

"Maybe next time we won't need any alcohol at all," - he concluded.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: violence.  
> This chapter is weird. Don't say I didn't warn you.

_Several hours ago_

"Fuck!" Dean groaned as the two silhouettes heading away from him finally disappeared at Castiel's touch on your forehead.

He got back in the car, shutting the door behind him. For a few minutes, he sat there, trying to figure out what to do next. Or maybe waiting for Cass to take you back, who knows? Although that didn't seem to be happening any time soon.

Dean glanced at his phone. His first instinct was to call you and tell you to get the fuck back (in an apologetic fashion, of course), but he was well aware of how much of an idiot he had been and how a call from him was the last thing in the world you wished for at the moment.

So he didn't.

He thought about calling Cass instead. Or maybe even praying to him so that _you_ wouldn't know. Dean thought about what he might say. He might have talked Cass into getting you back and apologize to both of you. Dean might have explained his behavior. Hell, that seemed like the only right thing to do - Dean had a lot to explain. But he feared, couldn't bring himself to do this.

So, again, he didn't.

He dialed Bobby.

The first thing Bobby asked about was, of course, the case. Dean hesitated for a moment, realizing he had completely forgotten about the case in this melodramatic havoc. He was relieved, though, - now he could begin from afar.

"And then..." Dean could feel a lump in his throat building up as he was finishing his narrative. "He zapped her someplace," he took a breath. "I don't know where, I don't know where to look." He waited for Bobby's response, but he kept silence. "And I don't even know if the demon is still in this town. So what the hell am I supposed to do now?"

Bobby sighed deeply. Dean could practically _hear him_ rolling his eyes.

"Well, stop being so damn stupid, for starters," Bobby suggested. "Cause if there was a shred of intellect in your head, you would've asked Cass about this demon and done your fucking job!" at the end of the sentence Dean was forced to take his phone a few inches away from his ear; the old hunter began shouting. "Y/N probably thinks you got a crush on her."

Dean frowned. He knew Bobby wasn't going to give him a direct answer to his problems without lecturing him first, and he knew he deserved it. He just wished it wasn't going to last much longer.

"Yeah, she does," Dean confirmed.

"Shoulda told 'em everything, son," Bobby's voice mellowed out a bit. "Shoulda told _me_ everything earlier so I could've beaten the cowardness out of ya."

Bobby knew where to aim. Of all things, Dean hated to be called a coward, probably, the most.

"How could I, Bobby?" he asked after taking a pause. "Also, don't you think... Cass already know?"

No answer again. Dean wasn't hoping for a group therapy here. He knew Bobby had never been in a situation even remotely close to his. As a matter of fact, Dean might have just needed a good kick in the ass to get going. And Bobby, - well, - Bobby was always happy to provide one.

"I mean, wouldn't he sense it or something?" Dean continued only to be cut off by his interlocutor.

"I ain't Dr. Phil, boy," Bobby sighed. "But tell you what, whatever you're going through, taking it out on Y/N is an ass move. And you better be saying sorry to her now, not bitching to me".

And he should have been. Dean had known it before he called Bobby. He knew it after the call was ended. He still realized it during the whole night, which he spent driving the Impala, drinking beer and thinking endlessly.

Thinking of how the hell had he gotten there.

* * *

_Now_

You heard your phone vibrating on the nightstand several times now, and if after the first few of them you somehow managed to fall back to sleep, the damn buzzing thing surely had some consciousness-raising effect over you. Lazily, you stretched out your hand and took the phone off the table. 4 voicemails and 6 missed phone calls. To be fair, you had not given much thought to who was trying to reach you or for what purpose - you just weren't ready to deal with reality at the moment.

It was Dean, of course. Even assuming it might have been someone else would be stupid. And ditching your phone, hours later the time you are known to wake up, in your line of work... Well, that was the most irresponsible you could get.

As the realization finally struck your clouded mind, you rose slightly on the bed and instantly felt a hand over your side. You turned around and saw Cass spooning you from the back, sleeping like a log. Apparently, angels could sleep if they were drunk enough. And, apparently, you had pushed the beds together before going to sleep last night - something you couldn't say you remembered doing. Both of you were clothed though, so, clearly, nothing you would have regretted forgetting about had happened between you two. The whole room smelled like a distillery. The two of you were covered with the trench coat, which served to you as a blanket since you hadn't even bothered to umake the bed.

Before you could smirk at this picture, a headache hit you like a wave. You crawled out of Cass's embrace, trying your best not to wake him up. You staggered to the bathroom to listen to your voicemail.

In the first two messages, Dean was apologizing for being an asshole and suggesting that the two of you would come back to work. The last two expressed Dean’s concern of your whereabouts and the reason _why the fuck wouldn’t you pick up your phone already_. Oddly, both Dean being an asshole and the case seemed like old news. Especially the latter - it took you a few moments to remember what did Cass even say about those demons. And you clearly weren’t still mad at Dean; you knew you probably should have been, though.

However, last night’s events made you too damn happy to care. You and Cass had kissed. Sure, you both had been drunk, and you had thrown up afterward, but the fact remained.

You had kissed, and it had been magnificent.

* * *

_Two days ago_

"What the hell's gotten into you?" Bobby inquired wonderingly after making sure you could not hear them.

He and Dean sat in Bobby's library, looking lazily for a new case. You weren't the only one who noticed Dean's strange behavior. Mainly because it would have been blatantly apparent for anyone had they witnessed any of your interactions. Of course, Bobby did see it too.

"Gotta tell ya, you’re acting like a dickhead, son."

Bobby always used to say he was too damn old for any kind of drama, so when he had first noticed Dean avoiding you, he hadn’t paid much attention to it. Then he’d assumed that Winchester had developed some stupid feelings for you. Or was it some silly little affair he wasn’t aware of? Either way, Bobby didn’t care. But at some point, he had begun worrying about you. Dean had been a little too hard on you for a little too long, so Bobby decided to knock some sense into the son of a bitch.

"You told me yourself, Y/N's like your little sister, and now you went all thirteen-year-old girl on her?" he said both quietly and wrathfully. "Also what, the girl is supposed to read your mind? Even I had no freaking clue you’d go soft on her all of a sudden!"

Dean let out a sigh, trying to think of a more respectful way to say ‘it’s none of your business.’

"It’s complicated," he stated blithely and looked back to his laptop, implying that the conversation was over. However, as Bobby’s stare still fixed at him had gotten even more furious, Dean decided to prevent another outburst and expand his answer. "I'm not 'soft' on Y/N, okay?"

"Yeah, tell me about it," the old hunter interrupted.

"Hey, I'm not!"

It was the truth. Bobby knew Dean well enough to be sure of that. The one thing Bobby could not have imagined or seen in the weirdest dream was what Dean told him shortly afterward.

* * *

_Now_

“Y/N, I’m sorry for yesterday, I was a dickhead. We’re gonna talk about it, alright?” or something along these lines was mumbled by Dean several times during your phone call. It was a rather quick conversation. You apologized for not picking up the phone and told him where you were at. No mention of Cass, as if the two of you were scared to say his name out loud.

It was a shame, though, you thought. Had Dean not been all weird about what you were now _dying_ to call ‘relationship with Castiel,’ you would have told him all about the last night. You still couldn’t wrap your brain about how your best friend, who had been encouraging you to “go get laid already” for as long as you’d know him, had turned into _this_ (whatever _this_ was). But you weren’t mad. You simply couldn’t feel that way right now. All you wanted to do during this phone call was to exclaim: “Cass and I kissed! Woke up together just now! He’s so amazing, oh my God!” and hear your friend’s mutual, genuine excitement. Was it too much to ask?

You agreed to meet up as soon as possible. Turned out, Dean was already back at Bobby’s. Dean had assumed that since you’d had Cass with you, you would have solved the case like a piece of cake.

“Uhm...” you bite your lip, realizing you had not even once discussed it with Cass. “Actually, we had no leads.” And then there was a silence - a substitute for quite an obvious question: _what were you doing, then?_

You went back to the room. Castiel was now sitting on the bed, his hair all ruffled, the jacket only covered one shoulder, he swallowed thickly as your eyes met. You stared at each other for an awkwardly long time before Cass broke the silence.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

He smiled cautiously. That was when you first wondered if that drunken kiss even meant anything. Now you wanted to run away as fast as possible just not to be face-to-face with Cass.

"Was that Dean?" he asked after no response from you since you were lost in your thoughts.

"Um, yeah, it was Dean," you stuttered. "And... Good morning!"

 _The fuck did I just say,_ you thought to yourself watching Cass making a step toward you and now panicking even more.

"Do we have to go now?" he inquired.

"Yes," it actually took all the strength in you just to say it - the only thing you wanted more than to run away was to stay. "He is back at Bobby's."

Castiel frowned at these words and took one more step in your direction.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?"

"Oh...I'm fine, I guess," you lied unintentionally, completely forgotten about your severe hangover.

"We both know it's not quite true."

He smiled and stepped forward to place his fingers on your forehead. You couldn't help but recoil from his hand — you thought he was about to teleport you. But, luckily for you, it wasn't his intention. When he finally reached you, the headache and drowsiness vanished without a trace.

You thanked him, and he smiled even wider. The silence that followed made you wonder if Cass was feeling the same. There just seemed to be no sense of urgency, neither from your nor from his side. Did he want to stay, too?

And why did _you_ want to stay, by the way? All those days, you had never stopped to ask yourself what you felt about him. There just was no time for it, or maybe the answer was purely obvious.

"I should take you there," he said quietly, as if not really meaning it. "And then I'll have to go, too."

_Despite all the absurdity, you were slowly but surely falling deeply for the angel._

* * *

Castiel left shortly after bringing you to Bobby's front door. You took a minute before coming in, looking blankly at the spot Cass had disappeared from. A minute to clear your head.

You opened the door with a loud _'I'm here.'_

No response, but you could swear you had just heard Dean from outside the house.

"Hello?"

No response again. You hesitated for a moment, closing the door behind you. This was unusual.

"Come on in, sweetheart, don't be shy," you heard Dean's grating voice coming from the living room. "I was gonna tell you my little secret!"

Something felt terribly wrong. You rushed into the living room driven by an instinct and not sure what to expect.

"We waited ages for you, what took you so long?" Dean burst into laughter. "Was it _the angel?"_

 _No, no, no, this can't be right._ Your breath hitched, you almost tripped over the rug on your way. You ran in and saw Bobby lying on the floor. You looked around the room, and there was no one else. Bobby was breathing but passed out.

"Where are you?" you shouted.

 _"RIGHT BEHIND YOU!"_ you flinched as Dean's voice thundered in your ear, although it was clear as a day now that it wasn't Dean.

Before you could turn around to face whatever was possessing Dean, you were thrown back at the wall.

"You guys are so-o stupid," he smirked, sauntering towards you. "Found a demon case just in your neck of the woods and never once thought it was weird?" he laughed.

"Get out of him!" you yelled heatedly, stuck to the wall and unable to move any of your limbs.

"And then bailed on it just cause of some melodrama?" the demon, now inches from you, cupped your face tightly.

"Get. Out. NOW!" your teeth gnashing, you tried to break through the invisible shackles, but they only seemed to clench around you even tighter.

"And miss all the fun?"

The smirk on Dean's face was alien. You wanted desperately to slap it off. However, you were only able to spit fiercely in his face.

"Fuck!"

The demon pulled away, and for a second you were free of his powers. It wasn't long enough for you to do anything, though. You barely managed to make a move when the demon stretched his hand, and you doubled over in sudden pain.

"Easy, princess," he hissed and pulled you by the hair to face him. "You haven't heard the funny secret yet!"

You glanced at his shirt and saw three cut marks on Dean's clavicles stretching down to his chest. That probably was the reason why Dean got possessed in the first place — the anti-possession tattoo was as well scratched.

"Dean was gonna lie to you, but I won't," the demon laughed maniacally and tightened his grip on your hair as you were trying to fight back. "I'm gonna tell you the truth. I'm gonna tell _the ugly_."

The only thing you could think of was, perhaps, the only right one. You closed your eyes and started praying.

"Are you calling your fuck buddy?" he giggled after shutting your mouth with his hand. "Oh, Y/N, just trust me on this one, you're gonna love it! I'm sparing your life right now just so you could hear it."

He clenched your jaw so tightly you were unable to make any sound at all. A hideous reek of sulfur pierced through your nostrils as he leaned down to your face.

"Now, back to your melodrama," he continued. "Did you really think Dean was jealous?" he asked and silenced.

This clearly was not a rhetorical question.

"Answer me when I talk to you, sweetheart."

A calm intonation the demon gave to Dean's voice was actually more frightening than any furious evil talk you'd heard from any other evil thing. You were seriously afraid for the lives of every human in this room; you couldn't see any way for you to win this fight. There wasn't much you could have done other than to nod.

"Good," he patted your head. "And I'm not saying you're wrong, but if you're guessing right, that would be so devastatingly... _boring,_ am I right?" he shook you roughly with a smile on his face, encouraging you to nod again. "You just kinda wish there was more to this story," he said pensively.

Bravery aside, you were scared as hell. You barely managed to get a grasp on what he was talking about and simply prayed for a miracle.

"Now, Dean _is_ jealous," the demon confirmed. "But why are you so sure _you_ are the reason why?"

You glanced at him in confusion. This made him giggle again.

"Guess what?" he spread his arms; you still couldn't move. "Oh, this is the most ridiculous thing _. You and your pretend big brother are both angelsexual!"_

* * *

Before you could have processed the information you had just been given, you heard the demon's hysterical laughter being interrupted by a very familiar sound. It was a flap of wings accompanied by a little sway of the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments make my heart sing. Please let me know what you think!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long of a hiatus, I'm sorry if someone's been waiting for this. I'm back again and gonna continue updating somewhat regularly.

"You felt exactly what any other human being would have felt. Anger. And dealing with anger... Well, let's just say it's not one of your strongest suits."

It was late at night, almost early in the morning, when you and Dean were sitting on the hood of the Impala. Was it the six pack you had grabbed on your way outside of the house, was it the beautiful starry sky glimmering from above or the exhaustion you both felt that made having this conversation so easy — you didn't know. It had been a long and eventful few days, during which the two of you barely talked. And that was a terrible mistake. You were best friends, after all.

Castiel had left several hours ago. It had taken a second and a single touch for him to kill the demon that had gotten Dean possessed, a minute to heal the three of you and one silent nod of his head to say goodbye before vanishing. Cass hadn't heard the demon revealing Dean's secret, but did this mean he didn't know it? For a creature that could sense a mere mood swing, you thought, it was highly unlikely. Why hadn't he told you then - that was a question you were too damn tired to even try and think about.

"Yeah, well," Dean took a swig from his bottle, looking wistfully at the sky. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry."

And he was. You knew Dean well enough to be sure of it. And your heart ached just thinking of how blind you'd been all this time. All these years, probably. There were enough signs for you to notice, but you ignored all of them.

"Apology accepted, Dean," as a matter of fact, you were now more angry at yourself for not noticing the obvious. "Why haven't you ever told me you were bisexual, though?" you asked discreetly.

"To be honest with you, I wasn't a hundred percent about that myself. Not until recently, anyway," Dean took a moment before answering. Even though the mystery was already unveiled by the demon, he still must have felt pretty uncomfortable talking about it.

"Man, you're in your thirties," you noticed.

"Ah, it's complicated," Dean smiled. "You don't start calling yourself a bi after a sudden boner you got from seeing a dude in the high school locker room. Once or twice," he shrugged. "You know how it is when you're a teenager — it's up, it's down, it's up for no reason..."

"Okay, you can spare the details," you laughed.

"And then... Living this life, surrounded by all the same folks..."

"And everybody looks like a lumberjack," you finished his thought.

"Rude," he said with mock offense. "But yeah, I guess it's one of the reasons," Dean silenced for almost a minute, but it was clear he was going to say something else. "It's different with Cass, though."

You couldn't help the shiver running down your spine as you heard Dean saying the angel's name. Lingeringly, as if enjoying every letter, silently, as if striving to keep the sound of it only for himself. That probably was the exact same way you pronounced it.

"How do you mean?" you asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

"It's not about... his looks — I mean, I've seen hot dudes before — hell, I've seen Jimmy, but it wasn't the same," Dean voiced your own thoughts. "But he's just... different."

Dean looked blankly at his feet and finished his beer in one big gulp. You weren't sure how to answer. You just hated this. This whole situation.

"But I don't want you to feel guilty, Y/N," Dean mumbled, looking you in the eyes, "I don't want you to end whatever you guys have. I'm glad - really fucking glad - that the two of my favorite people are together and..."

"We are not," you cut in. "We're not together, Dean" it seemed like he was confused, so you continued, "It was just for that stupid ritual," you shivered again at the memory. "And it meant nothing."

The lie came out quickly. It was reliving, even. What good would have the truth done, anyway? Would it have been better to exclaim 'Yes! Same!' instead?

As for what was to come next... Well, you had your priorities sorted out. No dude would ever come in between you and your best friend. No matter if the dude is an angel. Besides, it really wasn't the right time for romance. The world was coming to an end again, for fuck's sake.

That was what you had been reminding yourself about for the next few days.

* * *

That was an odd sensation, something new for Castiel to experience. It was rather human-like, he thought, still not entirely sure what 'it' meant. If he were to describe it, he would say that the way he perceived you amidst other humans was different. You were as if highlighted. He'd say that having you around was quite pleasurable, no matter the situation. Hearing you speak was enthralling, looking at you was bewildering. Seeing you get hurt was enraging and bitter.

Another thing that was unclear to Castiel — at what point in time had it started. Maybe at the motel? After the ritual? With hindsight, this sensation was not all that new — he had already felt it a long time ago. Back then, when Jimmy was alive, when Castiel was not alone at his vessel, the angel assumed that the human echo of the man he had possessed was to blame for this. Keeping that in mind, it was easy to ignore the sensation triggered by your presence — Cass had his scapegoat. Now there was no Jimmy, but the feeling had only become more profound.

However, this felt utterly wrong. Not only because Castiel was an angel and you were a human, not only because of the war he was in the middle of but also because of Dean. He had sensed a similar sensation coming from Dean a long time ago. As for the war, to his own surprise, he had discovered something that might come in handy and was now meaning to tell you about it. Well, 'discovered' is a strong way to put it. He only knew where this thing was and that he was going to need your and Dean's help... And that it was going to be much less joyful than performing an act of coitus.

* * *

You and Dean were on your first hunt after that unsuccessful one described above. It was a werewolf hunt, nothing extraordinary, nothing you two couldn't handle. 'Boring' you might have said earlier, but today you were over the moon that things were finally getting back on track.

At some point, you two got separated to speed up the investigation process. Of course, neither of you had expected that you'd stumble upon a pack of werewolves and would have to take them down all by yourself. Not without difficulty, an almost twisted ankle and a couple of fangs stuck in your hair, you somehow managed them. It was rough, but you didn't lack of experience.

Limping your way back to the motel you had checked into lately, you called Dean. After a continuous crabbed swearing, expressing your deepest discontent over the idea to separate, which had been brought by Dean, you finally caught him up on what had happened. Dean told you that he was in an hour ride and maybe would stop by someplace to celebrate the case solved. So, knowing Dean, you weren't really waiting for him to come back any time soon.

You got back to the motel in a few minutes and started stitching yourself. Things could have been so different, you thought as you were wrapping one of your wounds. You imagined getting back from this hunt and praying for Cass to come as if this was the most casual thing to do. And he would come, a kind smile on his face, he'd heal your wounds with one touch, telling you that you should have called him the second you were attacked. Yeah, you could have as well done it. He would have wiped those werewolves out of existence with a snap of his fingers to save you the trouble. A second later you would have been standing in the motel room. And then...

You shook your head. You weren't supposed to think about it; you had promised yourself not to. It was wrong on so many levels, and now those images just wouldn't come out of your mind.

You wished Dean was here. These days, you needed some kind of distraction. That werewolf hunt had been a solid one, but now that it was over, you were drowning in the unwelcome thoughts again. You even thought about following Dean's example and spending the night in a bar. But then again, bars and drinking, in general, were now strongly associated with Castiel.

So you stayed. Finishing up your stitches, taking a monster's-blood-and-body-parts-removal shower, you only sank deeper in your thoughts. It might have been the first time you ever let yourself think about what had happened. More specifically, about _yourself_ in the situation, how you _really_ felt.

Was it the hunt that took up all your strength or days of tamping down your emotions - or all together - the fact is, what you felt was nothing but anger. You were outraged by the unfairness of the situation. Had been for days, probably, but only now, as you were left alone in your shitty motel room, whimpering from pain, could finally face it.

Unfair.

Forcing yourself to forget everything that had happened and lying to Dean sure seemed right at the time. But did anyone really benefit from that? If no, what was the point?

"Castiel," you uttered to your own surprise and felt your voice jumping to a higher register. You shuddered, unsure whether or not what you just did counted as a prayer.

And _yes_ , it did.

That same flap of wings right behind your back. You shut your eyes, mentally shouting at yourself for being that imprudent.

"Hello, Y/N."

You slowly turned around. _Panic._

"You're hurt," he noticed, saving you from the absolute awkwardness of having to start this conversation and carefully stretching his hand up to your forehead. Unwittingly, you recoiled; much to Castiel's surprise. "Allow me."

"It's okay, Cass. Just a scratch," you muttered, pulling away from his hand again, bumping into the wall behind you.

He sighed, now coming up to you hastily and placing his palm on your forehead. "It's no trouble."

A light itching sensation and all your wounds vanished, the dental floss you had patched yourself with falling down on the floor. You could have sworn the nervousness somehow faded away too at his touch.

"It's good to see you," Cass said. "I was going to contact you and Dean myself, actually. Why did you pray to me?"

You froze for a moment, then breathed, "Tell me what you wanted to tell us first, that's probably more important."

You leaning on the wall, face to face with Cass staring into your eyes was getting way too weird, so you took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Where is Dean?" Cass asked a perfectly reasonable question.

"Um, Dean? Oh, Dean's at a bar," you shrugged. "Celebrating the case solved, probably hitting on... You know, women," you bit your tongue. "Should we maybe call him?"

"Right..." Castiel sighed, giving you a confused look, and sat in the chair next to you. He took a moment to think and looked at you from head to foot. "Well," he started. "It's not an emergency. It is just something that I'm still working on. I guess one of us can fill him in later if he's busy.

"I'll do that — I'll fill him in," you replied, probably a little too quickly. "So, what is it?"

"I think I might have found a way to retrieve some of the weapons that Raphael has destroyed. And I'm going to need help."

 _Finally_ , you thought. Finally, something that would distract you from feeling your feelings came up, something that was really important. These days, you weren't exactly a professional; _too much drama_ , you kept reminding yourself, _is never good for the guys who are trying to save the world._

"Of course, we'll help," you assured. "What's the plan?"

"To go back to the past, take the weapons from there," he began. "I know only a few of the weapons' locations, that is what I'm still working on..."

"Isn't there a rule about messing with the timeline?" you cut in.

You couldn't mask your surprise. Truthfully, you were even disappointed at how absurd the plan sounded. If everything were that simple, you could've stopped every damn bad thing from happening.

"Yes, I'm aware," Castiel nodded. "I'm the one who taught you that," his words made you blush. "That is why we'll have to take all the weapons back to where they were in 1901 immediately..."

"What?!" you yelped, hardly believing your own ears. "Are you nuts? Don't you remember that time you zapped us a few decades back and nearly choked on your own blood? And now you're talking about over a _hundred_ years and _four_ times in a row?

Cass rolled his eyes at you interrupting him again and waited for you to finish. "I know it's a long shot," he said pensively yet promptly enough for you not to cut him off again. "But it is also the only one we've got left. And I know it is nearly impossible," suddenly Cass took your hands in his. "I also know that I have incredibly low chances of living this through," he almost whispered, one of his hands now caressing your cheek. "That is why we are going to need someone's help."

"Whose?" you mouthed, a tear running down your face and disappearing under Castiel's hand. _Cass might die?_

"Mine," he answered, and the answer made no sense to you. " _1901 me_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far - first of all, thanks a lot - you might as well check out my Castiel painting on Tumblr :)  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ablavalba  
> I will love you forever for any kind of feedback. Please, let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

The plan was not at all that bad. Cass had considered every aspect, every course of action possible. There were still things to find out, and yes, it might have ended bloody for some of you if you wouldn't follow the plan to the last detail. Or for all of you... or all the creation.

"It's a terrible fucking plan," Dean commented on your quick summary of what Cass had told you last night.

You'd been waiting for Dean the whole night, wrapping your head around everything Cass had said, unable to go to bed and just sleep after everything. Dean, apparently, had been too busy getting laid to come back to the motel. As for the last night, Cass left pretty quick. Almost frustratingly quick in your opinion, but it was understandable given the number of preparations required.

"Even assuming we can pull this off," Dean rasped. "Wouldn't Cass remember bumping into us a hundred years back? Because if he doesn't remember it, that means it never did - or will - happen!"

"Not if he erases this memory," you said somewhat proudly.

Dean kept pacing back and forth, looking blankly around the room. That was pretty much the same reaction you'd had. Although having described the plan out loud, you started seeing more sense in it. You didn't forget that there were, however, several possible (very possible) inconveniences. Four time-travels, two of which with two passengers, were, for sure, the biggest one.

"And how are we supposed to talk Cass from 1901 into helping us?" Dean continued. "Don't you remember the stick he had up his ass when we first met him?"

And here goes the inconvenience number two. As Castiel himself noted, his present and past selves were two angels dramatically different from one another. Remembering the self-righteous soldier of heaven, deprived of any emotions or doubts, that he had used to be, Cass could vividly imagine the surprise on his previous vessel's face caused by such a change. And knowing himself from the past, he realized that getting 1901 Castiel to cooperate was not only going to be challenging but also might end with the angel reporting the visitors from the future to the bosses. But he didn't have anyone else in the timeline to turn to. He couldn't risk getting a few months or even years back - Heaven had established quite a surveillance over the Earth; he would've been noticed. 1901 was the safest option as it was the latest year he'd been on Earth before. As for erasing his own memory, it was a necessary mean but also another complication. As far as Cass was concerned, it was something one angel couldn't do to another.

"Dean, think about it," you plead. "Cass doesn't remember any of this. That means we will make it right!"

That was your strongest argument.

"Either that," Dean sighed. "Or we won't make it at all."

* * *

A few days went by. Everything was ready. That is what Cass had told you and Dean on the phone a couple of hours ago when you were driving in the Impala. He had also recommended you to ensure that all of your fundamental human needs, such as eating, sleeping and urinating, were met, as there would be no place for distractions of any sorts as soon as the three of you would come back to 1901. Following this piece of advice, Dean pulled over by the nearest motel.

Neither of you didn't really want to sleep. Or eat. Or, in fact, be a part of what was starting to feel more and more clear like Castiel's suicide mission as the moment was drawing nearer. The two of you were sitting in your beds, rarely talking and hesitantly sipping whiskey. Whatever it was you two were doing, it was the closest thing to getting into the fighting mode you could have brought yourselves to.

"C'mon, it'll be fine," Dean broke the silence, making you realize you'd been staring in one spot for God knows how long.

"You actually believe that?" you asked.

Instead of answering, Dean let out a dark chuckle and made another gulp of whiskey. A few moments later, the silence was broken again, this time by a phone call.

"Cass?" you uttered as you picked up, somewhat nervously.

"Where are you?" he growled, almost making you jump at the sound of his voice. You knew by now that he couldn't physically be out of breath or have a sore throat, although it seemed to be the case at first. Bit it wasn't; it was the sound of a man injured and fighting for his life.

You rushed to the table, searching for a business card of the motel. Dean jumped off the bed and stared at you, confused. The call ended right after you named the address, and you couldn't do much else other than to stare back at Dean as the time went impossibly slow.

Realistically, it was just a few seconds before Castiel collapsed on the floor, groaning and coughing up blood, making all the furniture rattle at his sudden appearance. You and Dean practically flew up to him, helped him up, and carried him to the nearest bed. Cass was covered in blood, his trench coat torn in several places, exposing dark red cuts all over his neck and shoulders. But those cuts on the angel's body didn't really worry you much after you saw the one on his chest - small in size, glowing blue and white.

"What happened?" you and Dean breathed in unison.

"I was stabbed," Cass croaked. "Other angels," he started, only to be cut off by the urge to cough. "They knew about the plan. They tried to stop me, but..."

"But you ganked them like the badass you are. We get it, buddy," Dean soothed, helping Cass to finish his thought. "Just tell us how can we help."

You instinctively rushed for the bag you kept the first aid kit in, realizing halfway that all your stitching experience might just be inapplicable for a wound with a _freaking angel's grace_ glowing from it. It didn't stop you, though, and neither did your shaking hands - at that point, you were ready to perform any kind of surgical procedure if it meant helping the angel even a little.

"You don't understand. We have to go. Now!" he rasped, pushing away the bottle of whiskey you were about to empty on his wound. He tried to sit up, only to be carefully pushed back down by Dean.

"Easy there, tiger," he asked. "You're in no shape for time traveling, especially with baggage."

Castiel pulled Dean's hands from his shoulders, leaving him with no choice but to let the angel sit up. Cass closed the wound oh his chest with his palm, and for a brief moment, it flashed with a faint yellow light. He squeezed the bedsheets, breathing heavily, but it seemed like the wound had closed up a little bit.

"We have to go," Castiel repeated. "I don't know how many others know about this or what do they know, but the longer we wait..."

Another series of coughs.

And before he could be cut off again by one of you, Castiel placed his palms on yours and Dean's foreheads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally got to upload another chapter after A LONG while, and it seems to be the shortest one of the whole fic... I'm sorry if anybody still reads this mess.  
> Anyway, I'm really hyped for writing another chapter, so hopefully I won't disappear again.  
> Thank you for reading <3


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